Lullabies on Heartstrings
by DuHSPaZZiNGFeL
Summary: "Quiet, Edward. It's time for bed." Different moments in Al's life remind him of everything he has lost and he has gained. A simple lullaby from his past strikes up old emotions, and he suddenly feels more in debt to his older brother than ever before.
1. The Lullaby of Resembool

**AN: Since I got a few requests on continuing "Golden Eyes", I give you this. But it is not necessarily a complete carry-over of that story. (Probably more of a prequel, and then the sequel part at the end.) Note that there are a lot of time skips and flashbacks.**

**Manga-verse/Brotherhood-verse**

**Lullabies on Heartstrings **

**Chapter One: The Lullaby of Resembool**

"Quiet, Edward. It's time for bed."

A four-year-old little boy crossed his arms and shook his head with such ferocity, that it even rivaled that of a mutt shredding a juicy steak to pieces. His eyes were deep and golden, exceptionally firm in the clear statement of utterly and _absolutely _refusing the desperate call to retreat under the colorful patterned quilt of his cot. His feet stood completely still on the ground and he frowned so that he also seemed to be pouting.

"Oh, Ed. You have to be more considerate. Al is already tucked in. Why can't you set a better example?" The mother raised her eyebrows at her older son, equally firm in her determination. "I don't think you're being a very good older brother…"

Her tone was a singsong one, the type that would suggest a playful and knowing manner. With her being the mother, of course it worked out just perfectly. And at this simple implication, Edward Elric was furious.

"Hey! No way! I'm good!" he shouted with flinging, stubby arms in the air. "I'm better because I'm a big brother!"

Trisha Elric smirked to herself. Obviously, she was generally gifted with her skillful plays on words, at least, with her two children that is. Her oldest son was still sometimes hard to handle, especially when it came to things he didn't want to do himself, in this case being the act of _going to bed_. He was stubborn, she reminisced, just like his father. But even with a granite wall in the way and a definite strong resolve, he still had a weakness, and that weakness, she knew, was his younger brother, Alphonse.

She tapped her foot against the floorboards, feigning disappointment. "Oh really, Ed? Then how come you can't show Al how to go to sleep properly?" Trisha's little smirk only widened by a millimeter, but she knew that her little boy found it perplexing. He was afraid that she would give him a punishment, and _boy, _did he dislike those. ("But I want to read those! How come Al can play, but I can't read?")

"Why don't you prove it?" she said at last to him. "Right now I think that _Al _could be _your _big brother." Her tone was a singsong one again, but she knew that the ploy was a success. After all, she was the mother of this house, and she was enjoying every minute of it.

This time, however, his mother had won the battle. It was one her was going to lose anyway. He wanted to please his mother, and as much as he did not want to sleep at such a ridiculously early hour, he had no choice. This was little Alphonse he was talking about. He had to be good in order to show him how to do things right.

"Ok," Ed said, bowing his blonde head in defeat, "I want to be a good big brother."

The mother's façade changed almost as quickly as it had showed up. "That's it," she whispered as she rubbed the top of his head with her slender hand. "It's time for bed."

When they had cracked open the dark oak door of Ed and Al's room, the surroundings were pitch dark. Silhouettes of toys, books, and furniture lined the view, and a half-crescent moon basked the grayish shapes with a gentle glow of blue and white. And of course, there was Al, sleeping soundlessly on the right twin bed with just the top of his dark gold head sticking out from under a plush quilt.

"There you go, Ed." There came the soft voice of his mother as she fluffed the sheets around her elder son. She placed an extra pillow behind his head as a precaution to the twists and turns that Ed tended to cause during the night and bump his skull. The lights from the hallway filtered inside, not strong enough to penetrate the mood, but Ed was still wide awake.

"Mom," he murmured quietly, "I can't go to sleep yet."

"Edward—"

"No. Can you…can you sing?" He was hesitant, not used to the words that were slipping from his lips. They were foreign to him, bizarre, and he had no idea what had compelled him to ask such a thing from his mother. Usually, it was Al that requested, but he was already asleep. Well, his mother thought so anyway, but Ed knew better: Al was awake.

In his gut, Edward felt that his little brother was actually up, pretending to sleep in order to please their remaining parent. He had been doing so a lot lately, he realized, ever since Van Hohenheim had left them alone the previous year. And he also knew that he was the only one who was angry with his father. Al most definitely was not, and his mother was still waiting. Ed was the only one that felt betrayed.

But in the midst of all these things, Al was still Al, and Ed just had to be himself too. If his little brother was listening, and he knew he was, he would just _have_ to fill in the role for both of them and ask for that song. Alphonse couldn't sleep properly without it, and it was his job as the eldest of the two, to show him how to do things right.

And a shiver blew down his neck as the sweet a cappella of the lullaby filled his mind all the way to his heartstrings. He paid close attention to every single word, every single phrase and syllable as they flowed wonderfully in harmony. But his ears picked up an even more distant sound, a muffled one, the sound of his little brother shuffling to hear more.

And Alphonse would never forget.

"_Hush, hush!  
Don't tell the bluebird to flutter away  
and he will come to you."_

It was an innocent try, but they could only pay the price.

"We're not evil. We just wanted to see mom again."

Words could only fix so much, but the fact was that these two were just boys, and nothing more. If only innocence could justify the burden of utter evil. They had grown up too fast, too soon, and they just thought it would be nice to start over again. Maybe they could play a game of pretend; games of charades, a puzzle spread out on the wooden planks of the floor, or play Hide-and-Seek with other children.

It was difficult to grow up, but they wanted to do it again. They would _rather _do it again.

"He can't sleep…"

How Alphonse wished he could feel the creak of grainy wood beneath his feet, or even be able to cry. He wanted to feel that. No, he _needed _to feel, but it was impossible.

"He's my little brother and I can't even protect him…"

Winry Rockbell was a little girl, only about the age of eleven when her best friends came running up her doorstep, covered in red. It was a scene that would stay in her mind for the rest of her life, and she absolutely refused to forget it. At the time, the girl did not quite comprehend the situation. Her fingers trembled, she called for Granny Pianko and sweat graced her palms.

_Where is Alphonse?_

She found the younger brother was literally hollow, transformed into a grotesque shape as an antique suit of armor. Somehow, and she still did not understand, his soul was attached with a blood seal onto it. It was alchemy, he had said, but she wasn't sure if she wanted to know the truth at all.

_Ed? Is that you? _

Winry never thought that Pretend Automail Workshop would become a real game. It was a part of their childhood, a childhood that all three of them seemed to drift too far away from. And soon, a State Alchemist named Roy Mustang rang at their door. He was known as the Flame Alchemist and he had somehow inspired some furious strength of mind into Edward. His eyes rekindled in angry hope. That day, she would also remember forever, as the day her best friend told her that he and his brother were moving on.

"Give me an arm and a leg to stand on. I'm going to become a State Alchemist and get our bodies back."

Alphonse didn't argue. He was just as headstrong as his older brother, but, incidentally, their motivations were the opposite. While he wanted to get his brother's left leg back, which was apparently the toll for passing through the Gate, and his right arm, which was sacrificed to retrieve Al's soul, Ed simply stated that he _will _return his little brother's body back to normal.

And this, the Rockbells realized, was the price for committing a taboo: the Law of Equivalent Exchange. Somehow, all these boys had left was each other.

"Brother, are you still awake?" It was the soft and gentle, quivering voice of Alphonse. He loomed over his older brother like an intimidating protector for days now and absolutely refused to leave his side. Although it was obvious that Edward felt unbearably guilty with what had happened about a month previously, to those who knew him best, they knew that Al was just as burdened. He reflected no emotion, but through his suit of cold armor, Winry could tell.

As she pressed her right ear to the white cedar of the door that led to Ed's room, she convinced herself that she was _not _eavesdropping. She had a right, didn't she, to know at least for once what the brothers felt. Or more specifically, what they thought.

"Brother, you're shaking. I can—I can ask for cold towels."

There was a shuffle and a rustle of sheets. "Al, I'm fine."

"I know you're lying."

Her senses picked up a muffled sigh and she could almost imagine the scene on the other side perfectly. There was a bed, covered with piles of comfortable sheets and pillows, a small blond boy within their confines, and there was an empty suit of armor that bent its head over the boy, sitting awkwardly on a wooden chair nearby. She could roughly see Edward in her mind's eye, golden eyes penetrating and clearly hiding something from his younger and _very _concerned brother.

Apparently, Ed completely disregarded the question because he never made to answer. Instead, Al continued on as if the silence wasn't ever there.

"Can you move them a little more now?"

As he stated the query, Winry heard another faint sound, the hesitant clinking of newly installed automail. There was a soft whimper and she knew it was Ed, but as she had no intention of interfering, she kept her place behind the door and only pressed her ear onto it harder.

"Y—Yeah."

"That's good! See? You'll be out of here and ready for the exam in less than a year!"

"Yeah, I know. It's just—" She heard a grunt and a sharp intake of trembling breath. The elder Elric could be heard breathing fast from down the hall, and Winry knew that if she was with the two brothers, she might even be close to tears.

"Brother!" There was the clanking of metal and a groan. "I knew you were lying! No wonder you can't sleep and it's already past midnight!"

The banging footsteps that rushed towards her told the Rockbell girl that her time was up. "We have to tell Win—" the door creaked loudly on its hinges and the helmet that served as the makeshift face of one of her childhood friends froze into place, "—ry."

She was caught, mid-turn, on the shoulder by Al. He reached out to tap her there and she quickly shook her head, hastily replying that she was on her way to retrieve some cold towels.

She felt foolish and she wanted nothing more than to hide in a corner and sob. After all these years of growing up together, it was still so difficult to see her friends this way. In a matter of days, their lives turned upside-down and she had no idea what to do. Winry walked quietly into the room where Ed was resting and came in with damp, olive green face towels and a plastic bowl filled with chilly water and floating cubes of ice.

Next to morphine, something nice and cool was good enough to numb massive and incredibly excessive automail joint pain. It was a primitive idea, but as Granny Pinako despised even the thought of waking up in the middle of the night, it was up to the children to do things themselves, and if anything, adults did not trust them with strong doses of medication.

"Here," the girl said as she handed over the supplies, "You need it."

It was silent from then on. A tender pitter-patter from the slight drizzle outside began to shudder the glass of the windows, but the rain was given nothing but a second thought. The heavy breathing slowed down to a normal pace as the aching was numbed by the frigidness of the towels and ice. The night seemed just a little less dark, warmth with a feeling of homely safety entered through the door's cracks.

"Brother, can you sleep now?" There was the whisper from the hollow metal, but strangely, it was also the calming voice of a younger brother to that of his older. And it was then that Winry realized that an older brother didn't always have to be strong. He didn't always have to look tough in the face of danger and defeat. In fact, he could be as vulnerable as possible and still come out a hero. That was the nature of having a sibling, and she also noticed that the two alchemists had no care about appearance.

They had each other's backs. They were brothers until the end and they would do anything, even risk their lives, for the other. Truly, all Ed and Al had was each other.

"I think so," Ed replied with a mumbling voice. "Maybe…"

"I'll stay right here if you need anything."

The floor creaked, and Al found himself stepping unintentionally back to sit down on the wooden chair another time. His metal foot stepped tentatively on the ground as if he was afraid to break it, which, he noted, he possibly could. He heard his brother yawn as he sat once again near the cushioned bed, and spotted Winry taking a few steps closer to the scene.

"You know," she spoke in an undertone, "I still remember that lullaby. Maybe it will help Ed sleep better."

If Al could smile, he knew that at this moment he most definitely would. He placed a thick and leather land atop one of the blankets that surrounded the eldest Elric and pulled them up over his chin and Edward sighed, closing his eyes contently.

"I think brother might like that, Winry," he nodded in agreement.

_"A rush, a rush!  
And the winds will flow west  
to carry him high."_

It was a stormy night in Central, and Nina Tucker cuddled closely to her best friend and companion, her beloved dog, Alexander. To say the least, the little girl was terrified of the lightning that flashed across the sky, and not to mention the rumbling and unpleasant peal of thunder.

Nina was in the middle of one of the numerous hallways in her and her father's tiny mansion, well, tiny compared to a lot of other State Alchemist homes that is. She huddled closer to Alexander, her childish hands combing deeply into the dog's white fur as she trembled for a while. Maybe she could find her father. He was usually awake this late into the night, so she kept tip-toeing with fear.

"Nina?"

It was Alphonse. His voice echoed throughout the confines of his metal suit of armor. He and his brother, Edward, were staying for the night at their home, as Shou Tucker had absolutely insisted and Ed and Al had no place to go anyway, their only other option being Ed's military dorm.

"Big little brother? I thought you were with little big brother," the little girl closed her eyes when another unfriendly strike of lightning sounded like it struck nearby. "I wanna find daddy, but I think he's in the basement, and the basement is _scary _at night."

Al patted her arm as gently as possible and made a sighing sound. "Alight, Nina. I'll help you find him, ok?"

The brunette nodded with a pout and tugged at her beloved dog's collar to follow. Alexander only made a soft grunting whine and closed in behind his owner. The pair trudged along beside the walking armor and they passed abundant empty rooms and neatly packed bookcases filled with priceless alchemy tomes and research. It was such a wonder to behold to the normal alchemist's eye, but Al had already seen too many libraries, including the infamous one in Central, to be too impressed with the sight.

When they had finally reached the door that lead to the elusive basement, another roll of thunder rounded in the skies and Nina jumped so high in her place that she started to cling desperately onto Al's cold arm. A feeling of excitement coursed through Nina as she touched her small hands to the doorknob in order to twist it, but the emotion was short-lived.

"Daddy locked the door," she whispered hoarsely and tears flowed down her cheeks. "I—I just wanted him to—"

"No, Nina! Don't cry! It'll be fine!" The scene, to any passerby, might even be a comical one, albeit abnormal. A giant, seven-foot suit of armor was attempting to console a sobbing child and a dog that simply looked exasperated and out of place, although that was ignoring the fact that the armor was there in a hallway and _moving _in the first place.

"—to tuck me in and help Alexander to stop being afraid of the scary storm."

It was child's play, and a fresh one at that. There was a very young girl that claimed that her dog was afraid of the storm that was brewing outside of her home, but Al knew very well that it was actually her that was afraid. He knew this for sure, as he had done it to Ed numerous times before when they were younger. It was times like these that reminded him that he was still all human and not just a soul bound to an empty piece of antique.

"It's ok Nina," he said, still trying to placate the child, "How about we go back to brother and see if he can help you?"

She hiccuped, only just getting used the idea and accepted it, lightly taking the hand of her big little brother. And she took her steps alongside her friends, breaking the rules for the first time in her life. After all, it was rare when she turned away from the affection of her father and his alchemy study. She wondered for a moment if she was doing the right thing, but utterly disregarded the fact when they had turned around the thundering hallway and reached the brothers' guestroom.

The entrance squeaked open and the sight before them was a groggy young alchemist with his left arm under his shirt, stomach grandiosely exposed for everyone to see. Al sounded a sigh and shook the helmet that served as his head, muttering something about brother being an embarrassment for the hundredth time.

"Al?" The figure laying on the bed muttered as he scrutinized to see who it was and sat up, unceremoniously letting the folds of his shirt fall back down to cover his previously uncovered abdomen. "What're doing with Nina and that dog?"

To the statement "that dog", Alexander made an indignant whimper.

"Nothing, brother," Al replied, "_Alexander _is afraid of the storm outside and Nina wanted help from Mr. Tucker to calm him down."

Of course, the younger Elric spotted the recognition right away. Edward had noticed his brother's emphasis on the dog's name and looked him squarely in the glowing red orbs that served as the other's eyes as if to confirm what he already figured out. He had been in this situation before so many times in the past, with his mother and with his brother, and it was usually up to him to "comfort" Al's stuffed animal during something that Al thought was frightening.

"Well, come here then," Ed stated with no hesitation, and that surprised Al slightly, half awaiting some sort of comeback or retort for being ridiculous. He almost smacked himself in the helmet; he was being so stupid. _Of course brother understands! How could I think he wouldn't?_

"Here Nina," Ed beckoned further, still sitting atop his bed and his expression clearly defined sleep. "Al's going to help Alexander."

The little girl nodded and made a gesture to Alphonse in order to urge him ahead. The Elric walked forward with the child and white dog at his side and soon they were sitting on Ed's comforter, minus the armor which would surely break the supports and headboard. By the time Nina and Alexander were on the bed, however, the Fullmetal Alchemist was off of it, smiling widely, with golden eyes twinkling. It was a fond memory of his, and it reminded him of things past and of how he used to scare all of the monsters out from under his little brother's twin bed.

"You and Alexander can sleep here tonight," Al said, slowly catching onto the plan that Ed had in mind. "Well…if you want." Out of that, they only received a contented nod in return.

Al continued, "And brother can sleep on the other bed, ok?"

"But what about big little brother?" Nina asked innocently, observing the obvious lack of a third mattress. Her eyelids were already drooping as she rubbed the chunky coat of her pet, and gradually, she sank deeper into the sheets. "Alexander isn't afraid of the lightning anymore…" And she was mumbling in her slumber.

Edward took a breath and bounced contentedly onto the second twin bed. "That wasn't so hard," he alleged confidently, the familiar burning determination set upon his gaze, "The little girl is asleep. Can I go to sleep now?"

Al took a seat on the floor with his back directly to his brother's bed and leaned somewhat, causing the furniture to scrape the planks for an instant. He turned his helmet to the alchemist behind him, wary of making the silvery horn that was part of his strange attire on his head, avoid hitting anything. For a short while the two of them observed the small child sleeping and were reminded genuinely of the childhood that they themselves had lost. And for that minute sliver of time, Al remembered _exactly _how it was to be fully human, body and all. He recalled the sights and sounds, the feelings and the scents, and even the tastes.

And then he heard Ed hum something that he thought he would never hear again. It was memorable, a loving, distant song in the far-off past, but it was one that he brought himself to think that was lost forever in the void of all the horrible things that he suddenly found his world sinking into.

"Is that what I think it…?" Al started, but he never got to finish his sentence because a snore ripped through the night and he was abruptly taken back out of his trance. Everyone was passed out and tired, all of course, except him. Even Alexander was grumbling in a huge and curled up ball of fur near to his young master, and to add to the effect, the storm was no longer rumbling outside.

_I see_, Al considered, _that was mom's lullaby._

For once, the expression of happiness wasn't a fleeting one, and the dangers of chasing a myth like the Philosopher's Stone were not a factor of dread. He knew in his proverbial heart that he and his brother would find that blood-red stone, whether it was an urban legend or not. They would find it, take it, and use it to restore their bodies, and no one would tell them otherwise. They would find out that stone's secret ingredients too while they were at it. That was why they were in the Tucker household in the first place. And with that thought in check, that suit of armor leaned further back onto the mattress he could not sense and imagined what it might feel like to taste a good and warm slice of apple pie.

"_Crush, crush!  
The white of a snowy day  
Falls beneath your feet."_


	2. The Lullaby of an Alchemist

**Chapter Two: The Lullaby of an Alchemist**

There was not anything like the feeling of wanting nothing more than to turn back time. Oh how he wished he could find a way that alchemy could do this impossible task, but the world was cruel, too cruel for anyone to help him research this answer. You couldn't find this technique in any book or any hurriedly scribbled notes on napkins. It was unfeasible, just like it had been years ago, to bring the dead back to life. And like so many things, he could only wish that it was not so. He could only hope that maybe, somewhere out there, his brother was watching.

Their journey had been about sacrifice, and he should have known that it was bound to happen that one of them could leave without a trace and never return. He should have known that his brother would be the one that would jump into the fray and take a blow that could have killed the defenseless soul bound to armor in an instant. And in the end, an arm and a leg was no longer enough. They had to take his life as well.

"Alphonse! It's going to be ok!"

A wholly devastated and unhealthily skinny teenage boy shook his head. "It's not!" he yelled at the top of his surprisingly hysterical voice, "It's not, it's not! And you _know_ it's not! Don't tell _me _it's going to be ok when I _know _you're wrong!"

His voice quivered, on the brink of frantic dry and heaving sobs. He grasped frenziedly at the pure pallid bed sheets of the hospital bed that he had recently found himself occupying. His eyes were wild, once known for being a gentle shade of dark gold as a younger child, and a warm red glow as a hollow suit of armor.

"DON'T LIE TO ME!" Alphonse shouted at the shocked officer before him, trying desperately to relay comfort unto the boy. Clearly, the attempt was going drastically astray. If not better, the high-ranking soldier only made things much worse than need be. Second Lieutenant Heymans Breda only bowed his head and clasped his hands on his lap as he sat back down, not knowing what to do anymore.

"It's _not _going to be ok," the youth muttered, almost to himself, "because I think brother went away for good."

The loss of his older brother had overwhelmed Alphonse Elric. But that was the understatement of a lifetime. A more accurate phrase would be that the event had outright _destroyed _him. After the horrifying and undeniable shock of the initial happening, the younger Elric had a mental breakdown.

He had been in the hallways of the hospital for only two days straight with nothing more than the physical problem of not proportional muscular and bone structures, along with the look of a poor, starving child. But there was nothing more terrifying that anyone had seen. No, it certainly was not his sudden appearance as a _normal _boy after being known for so long as a walking, talking, suit of armor, but the fact that Alphonse seemed like he had completely lost it.

His reserve was gone. He had no hope at all; no will to live, not determination, nothing. He wasn't himself, and frankly, he wasn't anyone that people could relate to. To him, the whole world was literally crashing down. He had lost his last remaining family member besides his father (which he still wasn't very close to), and the worst of all, he lost Edward.

"People don't come back from the dead, second lieutenant." His voice was so soft; Breda had to strain his neck in order to hear exactly what the boy had to say.

"They don't come back," Alphonse stared at his pale palms, absentmindedly tracing the lines on them. He was unaware of the door opening slightly to his left, as Winry Rockbell made her way into the room. The covers made a rustling noise, and soon he was lying back down, too overcome with his own thoughts to continue sitting up.

"People never come back from the dead," he finally murmured as Winry sat on the end of the creaking hospital bed, "Not ever."

It was then that the girl at the foot of his bed spoke, weary, with sapphire-colored eyes, and a watery gaze that lifted to stare right through him. Her light blonde hair was cascading down her shoulders, and she smiled, albeit uncertainly. She looked at him with an expression he couldn't quite discern for himself, and tilted her head as if analyzing the gentle rise and fall of his chest.

Winry folded her hands. "You have to remember what he said, Al," she whispered. It seemed that it took the thin teenager a moment to comprehend who _he _was. But then he knew as she continued, unfazed. "He said a lot of things, didn't he? He was strong, just like I know you are too."

He looked at her, unsure of what his childhood friend had meant exactly. His brother had said a lot of things, which was for sure. But wasn't he also the one that said that the dead can never return to the living? How was something that he already knew, deep down in the very depths of his soul, supposed to help him now? Nothing could help him; nothing at all, not even the fact that he could feel again.

"I don't understand," Al replied, still and hesitant.

"But you _have _to, Alphonse!"

The initial shock of Winry actually _screaming _at him sent both Breda and Al into wavering disarray. Sure, the girl was perfectly capable of becoming a clearly colorful shade of angry, as witnessed several times prior, but there was just something different about her tone this time, something out of place and insecure.

"Do you think Ed would appreciate it if you just laid here for the rest of your life?" Her arms threw themselves wildly into the air, an exasperated and hurt facial expression contorting her features. "It's been two days, Al! Two days! Do you think that you're the only one who doesn't know what to do?"

"Winry, I—"

She cut him off, not caring to listen to what the dark golden blonde boy had to say. "No, you're not! I know he was your brother, and I know that he was all you had left, but what do you think he would _say_?" She was breathing rapidly now, the watery reflection in her eyes now turning into that of heaving cries. "He would be furious with you, Al! What kind of a brother _are_ you?"

Those words, more than anything he had ever heard until then, had hit him with more force than he had expected them to. What kind of brother was he? Apparently, an appalling one. He couldn't even remember what his own older sibling would say in this situation. He couldn't bring himself to recall. Al was too distressed to hear his thoughts, and he was extremely ashamed for only being able to know the negative things Edward used to say.

Then, abruptly, with a full and absolute impact on his chest, the answer came like it was written with the clouds in the sky.

"Keep moving forward," he uttered delicately, "Stand up. You have two legs, so use them."

A hush came into the room, a whimpering air of hope kindled blackened spirits. Somehow, something sparked a candle back to life. It was as if a veil was finally lifted from the hidden doorway, only revealing a long path behind it. And it was soon possible to see yourself taking that tentative step forward again, step after step into something new and powerful.

"That's right," Winry sighed, streaks still glistening on her cheekbones. "Ed gave you your body back, didn't he? He got you something that you both wanted back in return, and don't think for a moment that he ever wanted to give up, Al."

"Brother would never give up."

"No, Ed wouldn't, and that means that you and I can't give up either, huh?"

_"So lush, so lush!  
Trees quiver in the spring  
their leaves will fly to you."_

They were separated, two brothers, for the rest of the remaining flame of life. But something like that could never imply that they were separated completely. Brotherhood seemed to run deeper and much further than that, and it could be said that a lot of people envied that kind of pride. But it was the way that their ties were almost absolutely severed that no one would dare to envy.

A brother sacrificed for a brother…

Amestris knew the story. It grew to become a common one, and throughout the years, the tales only expanded past broader horizons. Soon, the story would meld into one of the country's greatest legends, a fairytale beyond fairytales of sorts. The government saw it gradually change into that of a far-fetched myth, but, somehow, everyone knew it was real.

But, nevertheless, it came as a surprise to most in the military to see a certain boy turn up at their doorstep about a little more than a month later.

The youngest Elric currently had short blonde hair, as he decided to obtain from childhood. Unlike his brother, he liked it the normal cut with bangs neatly swept to the right side of his face. He tended to wear a linen, cream, and simple button down and long sleeved shirt with a collar, and a pair of black pants with comfortable dark boots.

Alphonse Elric pushed open the door to the Fuhrer's office tentatively, a little nervousness building up inside. Although he had no idea why, after all, he had known Roy Mustang as The Flame Alchemist and with the ranking of Colonel during most of his years when…

"Edward would've kicked that down you know, regardless of my rank now."

The new leader of the country stared up from his grandiose and gleaming Fuhrer's desk. To say the least, compared to the rest of the desks throughout the Central military headquarters, this one was completely different. As if to show off just how powerful the man that sat behind its mahogany carvings was, it flaunted quite the set of intricate designs.

"He probably would still call me Colonel Bastard for all I know, maybe even upgrade it to Fuhrer-King Bastard of the whole country," the raven-haired man stated as he folded white gloved hands across a stack of papers. "But, nevertheless, I guess you two are always going to be the opposite, right, Al?"

But the dirty blonde-haired boy just stood there, at a loss for words. He supposed that the situation called for him to answer, but he just couldn't bring himself to do so. He knew that he and Edward would always be the opposite from each other, and he supposed that even Mustang knew that as well. Instead of replying properly, he whispered something unintelligible and placed a shining pile of coins on the desk after silently walking over.

The Flame Alchemist raised an eyebrow. "If you're going to try and bribe me, I don't think that's enough."

"Count the money," Al said as he closed his eyes and sighed. "I think you'll understand."

The elder man shot a confused expression at his assistant, but Hawkeye merely shrugged in an unknowing response, obviously just as perplexed as he was. He turned his head back to the shining coins atop the wood of the writing table as he carefully fingered them out, counting aloud: "…two-hundred fifty, three-hundred, four-hundred, five-hundred, twenty…"

"Five-hundred and twenty cenz," he breathed at last and glanced with wide, dark eyes at the boy before him.

Al smiled a ghost of one, the small amount of joy barely reaching his eyes. He looked down and it was clear to anyone who might be in the room that he was feeling a conflicting amount of emotions inside. As if on cue, he simply dropped a battered and silver State Alchemist's watch on the table, and the silence was unceremoniously broken. Roy Mustang took a silent look at the watch that now lay near a fountain pen. His dark eyes twinkled for a moment and as quickly as it came, the moment was gone.

The designs that were gracefully carved into the corners of the desk seemed to stare back at Alphonse, and, he assumed, that one of them was a dragon. And of one of them, he noticed, was the unmistakable symbol of the Flamel. It was the same one that was sewn in black onto his brother's red cloak, the cross entwined in a snake with a pair of wings and a crown.

"That's right, sir," he replied softly, always the polite one, "Brother never breaks a promise and he wouldn't even break one to you."

The former Colonel smirked and folded his arms. "A promise, huh?" he said with something in his tone of voice that slightly suggested a mixture of amusement, astonishment, and, if Al was reading into it correctly, a little bit of regretful sadness. "I guess I can't say I broke my half of the bargain either."

Riza Hawkeye guessed that she should add a bit to the conversation in order to make it less awkward than it was already turning out to be. She titled her light gold hair to the side, contemplating the scene. In all honesty, it probably would stay in her mind as one of the most peculiar moments in her life. For one, Roy was actually speaking on calm terms with an Elric.

"You did become the Fuhrer, sir," she said with barely a second thought.

In the stead of Mustang making a quick reply, it was Alphonse who spoke faster, butting into the words that the man had already opened his mouth to say. "—_and _with your power as the leader of Amestris, I need to you allow me to take the State Alchemists' Exam."

At that, no one could quite say anything so immediately.

ooo

Another month had passed, and soon it would be three months since the loss of his brother, Al mused. He admitted that he couldn't really accept that he wasn't there for him, especially on a day like this, but he constantly asked himself if he ever would. He and Ed were always so close. They did almost everything together, but it was his older sibling's own words that brought him to this decision and to walk again on his own two feet.

He silently had to thank Winry for that one. Without her he guessed that, like she said, he probably _would _have laid on that hospital bed for the rest of his dwindling life. He assumed that if he did that, he would have no regrets, especially if all he could remember was that he seemed to be all alone now.

But Al knew that this was likely one of the most reckless decisions he had ever made, and he most definitely had his fair share of those. Edward was unreservedly against his little brother following in his footsteps, but this was the one rule of his brother that Al absolutely had to break. With that in tow, he was able to enter the exam gates with at least somewhat of a confident stride, albeit _somewhat_.

Fuhrer Mustang had assured the teen that there would be absolutely _no _exceptions made for Alphonse just because Edward had been the Fullmetal Alchemist. He would be judged fairly and vigilantly, his skills having to be superior to the others, with a vast knowledge of alchemy in order to even be considered for a State Alchemist position. But what Mustang didn't know was that Al was more determined than ever to win his prize. There was nothing that could stop him and he would make sure of it.

"Excuse me, um, sir?" A corporal was standing tall before the Elric, clearly hesitant to be letting such a young boy in. "Do you have a ticket for the exam?"

Al fumbled in his pockets and lifted the piece of paper to the man's line of vision, saying that he had forgot that he needed one and that he apologized for not taking it out for show sooner. But the soldier almost wholly ignored the boy's request. His olive-colored eyes skimmed unbelievingly over the ticket, only widening more into the size of the moon. He gasped to add to the effect, and looked up and down at Al.

"Alphonse Elric, fifteen, applying for a State Alchemist role in the military by request of Fuhrer Roy Mustang," he murmured. "Elric…Elric…that name sounds so familiar, but why?" Then, if possible, the green of his eyes only widened all the more. "Edward Elric! The Fullmetal Alchemist!" He shouted in stark realization.

Al felt uncomfortable. Even though his brother had been more than just renowned as "The Hero of the People", the situation only grew worse within the confines of the military. And to include more to that, hearing his brother's name so…_openly_ left him tingle with unhappiness in some part of him every time, but he deduced that he would get used to the prospect someday.

Well, someday.

"That's right," he said softly as he took his exam ticket back so he could show it to the proctors inside the building as well, "He was my older brother."

"Wait…_was—?_" the guard asked, but wasn't given an answer because Alphonse had already strode past him and straight through the grand, bronze doors that led into the alchemists' room. Al never heard the man whistle under his breath, muttering an "Oh. I heard. I'm sorry…"

He walked into a very spacious test room with rows of desks surrounding that area and a circular main desk in the front and center of it. From what he had heard, that was going to be for the supervisors of the examination, namely, the Fuhrer and some of his top men. It looked like your typical college classroom, except that it was fairly larger than a normal one.

Al glanced around and noticed that quite a few people were there, all of whom were adults, and only two or three women. He did discern that he did not know of any State Alchemists that weren't males. Maybe more men were interested in the arts than females? _No_, he thought in his mind, _Teacher is a very good alchemist. _

He observed that many strange and odd looks were being directed at him as he handed his ticket to a proctor, which he recognized immediately as Major Alex Louis Armstrong. The man gave him a curious stare and discreetly flexed a muscled arm at him, the single strand of light blonde hair on the top of his head twitching in anticipation. As he nodded at Al to allow him to pass, even more gaping faces bored into his back.

After all, it wasn't everyday that you spotted a fifteen-year-old line up to willingly take a military issued and, mind you, _extremely difficult _test. Though, it would never beat the fact that a twelve-year-old had already done it before him. This thought only pushed Alphonse further in fortitude. He would make it as a State Alchemist, just like his brother, and he would pass.

"Applicants, please take your seats. The exam is about to begin."

One of the proctors had announced that it was time to get moving, and he realized that Mustang was already at his seat on the rounded table, giving him an emotionless gaze.

Only about thirty applicants out of the original one-hundred made it to the next portion of the State Alchemist's Exam. They, including Alphonse Elric, had passed the written part with scores at least at seventy-five. The youngest Elric brother, however, had an astonishing score of ninety-six, the second highest score in history, that is, if his older brother hadn't scored a ninety-seven. They had gotten the results a day afterward, with the military eager to finish the annual examination as quickly and thoroughly as possible.

Now they were back again in the same exam room and a crowd of the remainder of the thirty candidates formed, usually most were fairly young as the state preferred those in the young adult life as they were in perfect health and had the right amount of stamina for a job such as this one. The one exception was Al, and he clearly stood out of place.

"Please come in a single file," a State Alchemist stated, "The next excerpt of the exam is the physical. When you reach the training grounds, you will do exactly as you are told. Follow me."

After a few minutes that seemed never ending, the group finally arrived at an outdoor military site, covered methodically in tan splotches of clay and dirt with just a small amount of striking threads of greenery here and there. There were targets attached to far off wooden walls, round and painted in red and white circles. Behind these structures were a row of four to five snipers who were carefully aiming their guns with precision. Among these was a familiar face that Al recognized as Riza Hawkeye, a full head of light blonde hair that was clipped back in a messy bun.

Again, Fuhrer Mustang stood nearby, although a good distance away from the shooting range and in an area that looked specifically cut off from the rest of the facility for this main event. The field was already an extensive size, enough to train miniature platoons in rows or guerilla combat, so splitting the place in half was barely even a loss at all.

This special space was fenced off and clearly had alchemists in mind. Piles of raw materials such as boulders, cans of water, knocked-down trees, and colorful minerals for transmutations were stacked neatly in the corners and boxes of chalk not far away. The thirty remaining applicants oh-ed and ah-ed in amazement and some even ran over to the materials in earnest.

"Now," a State Alchemist said to the small crowd, "Your physical will test your body endurance, ability to transmute, and the agility of your reflexes." At this statement, there was nervous whispering throughout the field. What was that supposed to mean? He continued while flicking a speck of dust off his shoulder, "Major Armstrong will group you with partners and you will fight each other. The remaining two alchemists will stage against each other and whoever wins the battle will be evaluated by Fuhrer Mustang himself."

Al sighed. Although he knew he could survive a fight, his insides still churned. As far as he knew, he and his brother were well-known for being skilled in hand-to-hand combat, not to mention the alchemy included. He knew he had a chance; the only problem was that there were plenty of other men here that probably were soldiers longer than half of his life.

"Alright alchemists, dismissed."

It had begun. Armstrong decided to pitch Al's first partner as a twenty-five-year-old young man with a literally big head and an even bigger ego. His hair was an auburn color, cropped short with green eyes, and his smile was sickening, enough to make you _want _to punch him directly in the jaw. The Elric almost laughed at the idea. He was becoming more and more like his brother as the days went on.

Eventually, the fights dwindled down until Alphonse was lucky enough to be one of the remaining two, including a thirty-year-old who held the rank of sergeant and entered the military at the tender age of eighteen.

"Huh, so here's a pathetic pipsqueak," the brunette man spat in contempt, "Shouldn't a kid like you be running to your mommy instead of trying out for a _military position_?" At this, Al didn't bother to respond.

"So are you going to make a move or not? The Fuhrer's watching, little kid."

As an abrupt result, the man, Al soon found out was named Newton, shot out at him with full force. He quickly and skillfully sketched out a transmutation circle on the ground, causing pebbles to fly upward and smack the teenager hard in the face, like a painful barrage of bullets from a rapid-fire machine gun. A string of blood withered in the air for a moment as one of the projectiles skimmed the side of his cheek. He wiped it off, a determined set beginning to place itself within his eyes and the officers around him that were familiar with the Elric brothers knew what was coming: the release of a demon.

Al clapped his hands, remembering all that he had learned from Truth and the Gate, and they sounded as they fell to the ground hard, causing pillars of earth to shoot out and off-set the balance of the soldier in front of him. He barely caught the surprised murmur of, "…no transmutation circles," as the ground shook yet again.

They went back and forth at each other, the younger alchemist dodging projectile bullets from digging deep into his skin, and the older from easily placed fist-shaped rocks. Newton huffed and smirked, his overly bloated ego rivaling that of Al's first opponent, and drew a circle on a fallen tree that caused it to form itself into a few shards of wooden spikes. Of course, these were no match for the mineral daggers that the remaining Elric sent flying.

Al heard a gasp, and he turned his head rapidly towards the sound.

"I know you!" It was Newton, and his looked drastically more upset than before. "You're that Elric brother, aren't you?"

"Alphonse Elric," a hoarse reply came from the boy as he tried to catch his breath in the sudden opportunity.

"Your brother was the Fullmetal Alchemist!"

Al felt a distant swell of pride when he said that, he had to admit. So many civilians and military men knew of his brother and he was so proud of it. He was so proud that they knew him, that they respected him, and thought he was one of the best. He _wanted _people to remember Ed that way, and he was adamant about the idea. But he supposed that not everyone would like it and that theory was only proven to be correct sooner than he imagined.

"That bastard took my spot as a State Alchemist four years ago! That stupid kid was only twelve and if that idiot was still alive, he'd be a sixteen-year-old, dilapidated orphan with no place to go! I'm glad he's dead! It was even because of him that I had to keep my low rank and lost my credibility as an alchemist! Kid can go rot in hell!"

His insides boiled. His cheeks turned a nasty shade of furious crimson, and the nerves in his fingers made him twitch in angry motions. Alphonse had half a mind to stay still and remain calm, but somehow he just couldn't bring himself to do it. By the time the man was pinned by the ends of his blue cuffed sleeves, Al had not realized what he had just done.

Newton panted hard, his eyes wide as diamond shards that were brilliantly cut from pieces of carbon portions from the raw minerals pile, dug themselves deep into his clothing. They pinned his arms and legs down, barely missing his flesh, and a thick belt of earth was wrapped around his waist. He was trapped, and a _kid _had done it, and he was standing right above him.

Al was never the type to get irritated easily and he prided himself with usually being able to keep a level head, but this time, something inside his chest snapped and suddenly he wasn't him anymore. He saw red.

His expression hard, he spoke in an eerily calm voice to his defeated opponent. "Don't _ever _speak about brother like that again."

He clapped his hands once more and touched the ground, and with the sound of footsteps was the sound of diamonds shattering and terrain crumbling to dust. Newton was free, but he didn't bother to stand up. For once, the arrogant sergeant was at a loss for words. No one, not even Fuhrer Mustang, stopped Alphonse Elric from walking out, his back only growing into a tinier fragment in the distance as the shuffling of his heels caused a cloud of dirt to follow close behind.

And not one person except Alphonse recognized the glimmering shine of diamond-like trails that started to find their way from his eyes and spill over in wet droplets on the ground.

ooo

"Congratulations, Alphonse, I guess you're a State Alchemist now," Sergeant Denny Brosh stated as he handed a chair a silver pocket watch with the Amestrian engraving of a dragon with a star surrounding it. "The Fuhrer does not regret his decision."

The man sighed, realizing that he was indeed completely alone.

"What am I doing?"

It had been two days since the alchemy exam and the results were in, albeit obvious. All who had known of the ordeal knew who the apparent winner would be. Al was just too good. There was no way that he would fail, in fact, some even wondered if that was in the Elric blood at all. But instead of quickly receiving his prize, the event was held off, as the messenger was _still _practicing his technique of congratulating. Brosh had no idea why he was so anxious. It was just, Al, right?

Wrong.

Al had been acting differently lately. Well, he guessed it couldn't be helped. Not even a year had passed. He took a deep breath and shook his whole body to his toes. He could do this.

Probably not.

"Ok, you can do this sergeant. Why don't you just be a good soldier and deliver the message?" And after that, he made the decision to simply drop the letter off in Al's mail slot in the door. While doing so, he even pushed the State certification watch through, a little shocked that it fit. But he knew that this was much easier that telling the boy himself. But before he slipped it through, he snuck a peek at the memo.

_Alphonse Elric,_

_For your practical skills in alchemy, combat, and written knowledge of the sciences, you are hereby titled the Living Soul Alchemist under the name of Fuhrer King Roy Mustang and the nation of Amestris. You are now State certified to practice the discipline of alchemy and are under the jurisdiction of the military, and have also gained the immediate rank of Major. Funds will be sent to you in order to supply your subsequent research and you will be tested again in two years to renew your status. _

_The laws to be adhered to are as follows:_

_1. Your duty is to the State and to the people._

_2. You must not transmute gold._

_3. You must not commit the taboo of human transmutation._

_Your superior officer will be Fuhrer Mustang himself._

_Sincerely,_

_**Central Command**_

But when Al read the letter himself, he actually smiled for real, unlike the last couple of days. He couldn't help but wonder if all State Alchemist names were as ironic, or even if the laws of Equivalent Exchange had decided to throw the taboo back in his face. And after so long, he laughed.

Fuhrer Mustang had returned his brother's aged pocket watch to him, its engraving of "Don't forget 3. OCT .11" shining in the dim light of the early morning. And within it, a folded note in scrawny, but professional handwriting that read, "That's _Colonel Bastard _to _you_."

"_Shush, shush!  
Here goes the heavenly dreams  
that sigh with joy to you."_


	3. The Lullaby

**AN: Slight spoilers up ahead for the final chapter in the manga, 108 Journey's End. I admit that I already planned the story before this came out, but added in a few details along with the last manga chapter, but for those that are extra careful, you have been warned.**

**This is the last chapter before a very short epilogue. (Sort of epilogue. It's hard to explain.)**

**Chapter Three: The Lullaby**

They had made a solemn trek down the grassy hills of Resembool. The sun was already setting slowly behind the rippling landscape, splashing hues of dark orange, scarlet, and lavender on the canvas that was the sky. Already, the twinkling lights of stars began to sprinkle it, shining like the rarest jewels of the rare. And the most prominent feature of all was the Elric home, neighbors with the Rockbell house and reclaiming the place the original building used to stand before two brothers had burned it down with sincere resolve.

"Dad?" a little boy questioned his father. "Are you coming inside? I think I smell some of Aunt Winry's apple pie."

They had always referred to Winry Rockbell as "Aunt" because she spent so much time with the Elrics. Like Granny Pinako was, she was exactly like a family member they were missing, and of course, she made the absolute _best _apple pies.

It was an infamous smell, a smell that almost anyone in Resembool would know all too well. He had tasted it before, seen it, heard the sounds of its rising dough in the oven, felt that crumbling texture of crust melt in his mouth, and sniffed its cinnamon-sweet aroma and the tinge of the sliced burgundy fruit. He was lucky, for years ago he would never have sensed all those things.

"I'll come in for a while, Ed," he said as his arm reached out to turn the knob of the front door.

When the two males stepped inside, they were greeted by a woman with fairly long hair tangled into braids of a silky black and an exotic flair to her personality. She wore a foreign collar around her neck, but even though she was Ed's mother, she looked almost nothing like her son's golden hair and eyes, the child obviously taking from his father's side.

Together, the three made a happy family, although she was only able to have one child due to complications with the first birth. But it didn't matter, he still cared for both of them and there was nothing more satisfying in the world than seeing them smile.

While taking off his boots and his wife neatly placing them in the corner with the rest of the shoes, he looked to her saying, "Thanks Mei. So Winry came in and made us a pie?" He took a moment to lightly stick his nose in the air and take a whiff. "It smells great as usual."

"Good. She made it just for you and Ed, and, well Granny…"

"Then we have to make sure that we enjoy it."

It wasn't hard to figure out that the Rockbell woman was taking her grandmother's death so hard. Pinako had been her only family left after so many years of having no parents. But she knew it was never their fault they had to go. Sara and Urey Rockbell were only trying to use their skills as surgeons to help those in the Ishvallan Civil War. They had saved many and helped many, probably two of the only respected Amestrians by the people of Ishval. But with her parents being her parents, they had died by the hands of one of their own patients, more commonly known as the former State Alchemist serial killer, Scar.

They heard a few clanks in the kitchen nearby and a stiff call of "Pie's ready," from a clearly hoarse voice. As a simultaneous reaction, the three Elrics turned and walked together into the dining area where four plates were set up along with a steaming recipe of a delicious treat sitting in the center of the round table.

"I made it while Ed and Al were up on the hill," Winry sighed, "You'll be glad to know that Mei added in some Xingese spice this time."

Mei nodded. "It's a special cinnamon with ground sugarcane and xiang wan dou (sweet pea in Chinese) flavor."

Needless to say, the new and improved apple pie was more than a success. Alphonse took a liking to the new and tangy essence on his tongue, as did Edward. And soon, the sky outside was dimming further, the events of Granny Pinako's funeral that occurred mere hours ago fading with the daylight. Nature was mocking on this day, but that did not stop the makeshift residence from attempting to add a feeling of normalcy back into the world.

And soon, it was time again. Today was not just the day of the old woman's funeral, and of course she just only died a few days prior. Today was something else and it was today that two people in the room remembered even more as the years passed by, their memories somehow seeming to grow ever stronger.

And so, as his Xingese wife gave him a meaningful look, Alphonse Elric stood up from the table and brought his now empty plate to the sink, effectively washing off the leftover crumbs with a lavender soap bar and water. He dried the porcelain with a crumpled towel that was hung on a rack below the appliance and wiped it off, sighing as he turned to walk through the archway that led to the exit of the house.

He felt the stares of his family boring into his back, but he had to ignore them for now. All of them, especially Winry, knew that this was tradition. But of course, Mei was also very well aware of the situation. She was there after all, all those years ago…

"_Remember, Al."_

How could he not recall? That day changed his life forever. Things would never be the same from that day on. He would make the decision to follow in his older brother's footsteps and take up the title of Living Soul Alchemist, Mustang would become the new leader of Amestris while helping the Ishvallans and creating a new era of peace, Al would realize that Mei Chang of Xing was the person that he would spend the rest of his life with, and Winry, well…

"_You have two good legs. Don't forget about the past, but don't look back either."_

Yes. He wouldn't look back. His brother had told him that right before he left for good. But just as he said, his whole life would never be spent dwelling in the past: he would not look back. The past was the past, and the present was the present, and no matter how things seemed to change, the future was always there to loom before them.

He realized at a too young age that you could never change something that already happened. And even if you set out to fix your mistakes, as he had done in order to retain his body from the Gate, the memory was always still there, affixed upon a distant horizon and a reminder that even the humans with the best intentions will always be sinners.

Alas, he had learned to never play Truth and to never believe that the clock could rewind itself. When someone was gone forever, that was just it, and they were never coming back. He knew better now that people will always be mortal, that each person has a beginning and an end. It was the job of the world to keep the cycle, for unless humankind somehow attained the knowledge of immortality, it would be impossible to break it.

His feet could be heard crunching on fallen leaves, the leftovers from a wind, and the moist air of the commencement of summer filled the hills. Today was spring's final dance and it swept with grace across the plains, the last day of spring before summer officially began.

The Promised Day.

"Hello, brother. I haven't seen you in a long time…" Alphonse stretched his arm out in order to touch the top of the granite that made up the tombstone of his older brother that read:

_**Edward Elric**_

_**The Fullmetal Alchemist**_

_**1899-1915**_

Before him, there were numerous graves. His elder sibling lay to the left of his mother, Trisha Elric, and to the right of her was the stone of Van Hohenheim, his late father. Directly in front of the three were the graves of Winry's parents, Sara and Urey Rockbell along with the more recently dug grave of Granny Pinako, as her parents had passed on four years after his own mother had in 1904. But of course, no one knew exactly how old Hohenheim really was, except for Al who recalled a conversation a long time ago when he had stated that he was about four-hundred-and-fifty, but because no one knew at that time, the dates were never written upon his last resting place.

"Ed is growing up and he looks a lot like you do," Al grinned, "And he even hates milk."

The Elric brothers were well-known to be extremely close. They leaned on each other for support and held the most incredible bond. Even as time lapsed and days turned into weeks, then to months, and years, the towns and residents they aided always said the same thing.

They remembered how they only seemed to have each other.

"You know brother; sometimes I wonder what it would've been like if things were different fourteen years ago." He chuckled aloud, "Wow. Can you believe it's already been that long?" He smiled again, rubbing his hands together as a smooth May airstream blew by and caused goose bumps to rise across the length of his arm.

"Everyone's older now. Pinako was ancient, and as for me? I could be over the hill in a couple of years, being twenty-nine." And then, like it was so foreign in a graveyard, his laughter rang out like a musical tune playing from corner to corner and to the ears of the past. "Come to think of it, I'm as old as Mustang was back then!" He shook his head with a smile still present upon his features, "I guess that makes me your superior now."

The silence was simply there. Never was there ever an answer, or a call, or a shout. It had been silent for fourteen years and nothing had the power to change it for once. His dark golden-gray eyes found themselves travelling to peek at the lettering on his mother and father's resting places, and eventually to take a moment to reflect on Granny Pinako's. Like always, there was not a word said and it was just Alphonse that stood there all alone.

"They say that death is a part of life," he murmured, "I only wish it was."

The Promised Day. It was years ago, but it was too hard to forget. It was a day where the moon eclipsed the sun quite literally and the people of Amestris were in terrible danger. It was a day in which things changed for the better, or maybe it was for the worse. He would never be so sure. But even so, Equivalent Exchange was a cruel law. It really was. You could sacrifice too much for some things and gain too little for others. So in a sense, Al supposed that the law never truly existed in the first place.

But even as much as he wished to believe that losing Edward equated to gaining his new family, there was still that memory in the back of his mind every time he thought about it. Even when Mei was finally able to have a child, they had named him after his brother. No, he couldn't forget the past, and that was a fact. He shouldn't forget. It was the past that made up the future after all. Even so, this day was still ironic.

Spring was the season for new life and new beginnings, births, and growth. He remembered the irony of it all when the event first occurred and he was positioned, hopeless, on a creaking hospital bed. Winry was the one to bring him back up on his feet and her words convinced him to keep moving forward with his life and put on his rank as the State Alchemist, Alphonse Elric, and the Living Soul Alchemist. She was the one that helped him gather courage to confront the Xingese alchemist and tell her that she was more than just a friend to him. But on that day, the spring had betrayed him.

"Brother…Where—Where are you now?" Al wondered out loud.

They say that if you really loved someone, you would always place their happiness before your own. They say that you would do anything for the person, even give your most prized possessions up for their sake, but if you really cared about them to no possible end, you would even be willing to place their life above yours.

And that, Alphonse knew in his heart, was the true story of the Elric brothers.

In the end, he guessed it kind of was like alchemy's first law. It was a life for a life. But somehow, he could never understand why it had to be so. Sometimes he wondered why it was never the other way around, or maybe even a death for a death. Those musings were too morbid for his personality though, and he pushed them aside.

"_Al! NO!"_

It never felt that way nonetheless. He never thought his life was that important, until, of course, Ed showed him just how much he cared. And that was the epitome of brotherhood. Even though all is one and one is all, that one moment when he saw his brother shove him out of the way as a flying, sharp attached projectile came coursing through the air from Father in his "perfect" form, he finally had the sinking notion just how small and insignificant he was compared to the rest of the world.

He remembered that he was unarmed and unprepared, and ultimately any alchemy would be too slow to stop the blow. The only thing that could save him was somebody else and his empty, cold suit of armor refused to make a move. Al was the one that should have died that day, but it turned out that only a brother like Edward would care too much.

"_Great. I'm glad you're ok now, Al. I'm going to kick that bearded bastard in the ass…"_

Al remembered that he was basically struggling to stand, crawling on the floor as something hot, sticky, and _red _splattered in places he could only imagine in another failed human transmutation. And in some way, with his brother being his brother, he miraculously managed to deliver a final blow on the homunculus with the help of their surrounding friends and eyewitness soldiers. And it was his brother that used the last of his energy to bring Al's body back from the Gate with the sacrifice of the weakened Father through Truth.

"_C'mon Al. It's time for you to go home."_

He did go home. He was here and alive, breathing, and a successful State Alchemist. Alphonse could say that his life was more than he had expected it to be. It was full of adventure, pounding excitement, and joy. He could say that, but then he sometimes wished his mother, father, or Ed could see just how happy he was indeed.

"I hope wherever you are, you get to see mom again." Al titled his head to the sky and fluttered his eyes shut just as the sun began to set even further beyond the terrain. "I hope you're still Nina's little big brother, and that you're not suffering too much from Hughes's pictures of Elicia."

He bent down and placed a copy of a picture on top of the site, pinning a small enough sized rock on the photo in order to keep it from trembling away with the breeze. Night was fast approaching and he noticed that he had been gone too long. The last day of spring would mock him for the rest of his life, he comprehended, for it was this day that he lost his brother for good.

Al grinned and turned his back on the gravesite, a right hand raised in a casual wave while he said goodbye for now. He would be back soon, he promised, and he would bring along milk just for fun, maybe even the other Ed, or Mei, or Winry. Next time he came, he said, he promised that he would leave a plate with a slice of the new flavorful apple pie.

But as he went on and through the entrance of the graveyard, he never noticed the beaming figure that stood right where he had just minutes ago. He had long blonde hair that was tied up in a braid and golden eyes. The figure grasped the photo left behind, noticing that it included a bright, blissful family with a child that looked to be just about under ten, a fairly attractive young woman with sleek, dark hair, and a familiar man with a gray-gold gaze.

"Well Al," he said with his smirk only growing wider, "it looks like you listen to me after all." And then he spun around on his heel, the picture in his clutch, and faded through the setting sun like he was never there at all. A whisper became as faint as the departing afternoon that left with the figure, a pledge of sorts as the last whip and strand of the blonde locks of hair evaporated from the material world.

"I can't wait to try that apple pie."

"_Without a fight!  
Touch your eyes closed  
And remember again."_

"Hey, Aunt Winry?" The youngest and only Elric son stood near the door, waiting eagerly for his father to arrive home from his walk. He had been gone for at least an hour or so, possibly even more than that, but no one but him seemed to worry. The adults always said to leave him in peace when he did things like that.

"Yeah, Ed?"

The boy sighed, rubbing his eyebrows as sleep started to set in. "Why's dad taking so long?"

Sure, tradition was that every time it was the last day of spring, or close to it depending on the year, his father would wander off somewhere and not come back for a couple of seemingly endless hours. But the thing was Ed was naturally closer to him, so it felt like forever during the lapses that stretched. He had always wondered what was so special about today. Well, Granny Pinako's memorial service was just today too, so how could his father be out going somewhere _again_?

The thought seemed so ridiculous, he almost had the urge to go out that front door and search for him himself. But then, he remembered what his dad said to him while they were sitting on that hill earlier that afternoon about why his parents alleged things that were so profound to him sometimes, about the phrases that his elder brother used to say when he was still alive.

"Ed? I want you to remember something for me," the father had stated, "You have two legs," he continued in almost a hushed, but firm tenor, "You can get up and use them, and the only thing anyone can do is to keep moving forward."

And Ed recalled that he came to terms with all the nagging and deep words. Pinako had respect for the other Edward, right? He had liked that, and he still did like that. If his father's brother had been so legendary, he did not understand why he hadn't learned about the man sooner. So instead of researching on his own, he decided to ask the next best source, and that was Aunt Winry.

"Today is…different," the Rockbell guessed as she patted the child's head. "It's kind of special in a way. Well, not a happy kind of special, or a sad one exactly."

"So I suppose it's like an in-between day for your father," the automail mechanic concluded thoughtfully. An explanation such as this one was difficult to explain to a boy as young as the one before her. One loss was already enough at such a tender age, and she knew that for a fact all too well. "Don't worry about, alight?" And it was then that Ed noticed his family friend's teary eyes.

He felt so useless right then and there. He should have been more considerate, as the woman had just lost a family member. And his thoughts were swirling around, a complicated array of different fragments of sentences and remarks that he could say to make her feel better. But as Ed was about to say that he was really, _really_, sorry, Winry had beat him to it.

"I'm sorry," she said to him as the two plopped down on one of the leather couches, "I'm sure you want to know what today is." It was so surprising that the woman appeared to know how to read minds that Ed merely nodded in a shocked response while his mother walked into the living room to observe.

Winry tittered quietly, her light blonde hair swaying gently from side-to-side. "Edward Elric was his name," she continued on, "He was your father's older brother."

"Dad told me that up on the hill."

"Oh he did, did he?" This time, Mei had added her commentary into the conversation and sat on the other side of her eight-year-old son. She tugged a bit on the collar of her Xingese housedress and ruffled out the wrinkles on her lap into a smooth fabric of a purple, silky dragon and swirl design pattern. "He and Ed were nothing alike you know, though there are plenty of stories about those two out there. You've probably heard some from around us and school."

"Dad tells me all the time, but I didn't know his name till today."

Ed thought of all those moments when he heard that his brave, strong, State Alchemist father, a colonel in the military at a relatively juvenile age, and a famous combatant, was once just as naïve and vulnerable as any other weak teenager there was. He heard that it was really his big brother that did things and protected his dad from attacks; while in return, Ed's father did the same for him. They were a tag team, inseparable, and they did everything together, including by some means annihilating a major coup d'état.

They were stories, but almost everyone throughout the country of Amestris knew them all. But, to those who were not alive during that period, it was hard to believe any part of it. The accounts sounded so alike myths, or bad dreams with a nightmarish twist to a fairytale. Some ended happily; others, not so much, and he sensed that this was one that finished with the latter.

"But they're not _real _are they?" Ed asked hesitantly, slightly afraid of the answer.

He caught his mother smile in his direction. "Oh," Mei shook her head in an amused fashion, "All of them are very real."

"R-Really? But homunculi and fake humans or a guy that blows Aunt Winry's automail into pieces with just his _arm_? That's impossible! I mean, the clapping with no circles I can believe, but only because I see dad do that a lot, but he, the Fuhrer, and that Izumi lady are the only people I know that can do it." His mother gave him a stern look at his choice of calling an adult by "that Izumi lady", and he rapidly spewed a "Sorry."

"If you want proof, Ed," Winry added in, "Your entire family is the living version of it. We were all there at some point in the story, especially your dad."

"Well, I guess—"

The door groaned open and in stepped in the very man that Ed was impatiently awaiting the return of. Alphonse sauntered in, whistling and in a more noticeably jovial mood than hours ago. The three looked in his route, completely and utterly aware of the difference. And it was his son that noticed what he was doing next.

Content, Al had a grin that cracked across his face, and he never looked more pleased. He stopped by the corkboard that held the collection of photos and snapshots with newspaper articles, and paused to enjoy the collage, conspicuously lingering for a few seconds longer than needed on an aging one that contained two youthful boys with enormous smiles, one looking much like his father, and with them holding a rather large olive freshwater bass like it was their first catch.

And then, just like that, Al disappeared with the blink of an eye and the subtle sounds of his footsteps could be heard as they strode upstairs.

"That could be my cue," Mei said, brushing her braids to one shoulder as she stood up from the cushion that was the couch. She glanced over at her only child and nodded to the timber staircase. "That's your cue too, Ed. It's late. Get going, c'mon. Ms. Winry can bring you over to bed."

"But mom! I'm not a _baby _anymore." She gave him a sharp glare and he was subsequently pacified. "Fine," he said as he pouted, folding his childish arms diagonally on his chest. "I'll do it."

"And Win," she added while the blue-eyed mechanic signaled that she was paying attention, "You can sleep in the guest room for the night. It's late and it might be too dark to walk over to your house."

Lights blew out, candles churned out smoke and soon the house transformed into the calming darkness of the evening. Only two candles were left flickering, one that Mei held as she made her way up the stairs and into her own room, while Winry led Ed with another, effectively passing the staid woman and climbed all the way to a door at the very end of the hallway. It was Ed's bedroom, and if she committed to memory correctly, it was also the same position as Ed and Al's room when they were kids.

Then she turned the knob and they were inside a moon-kissed space. The curtains, in the daylight holding a maroon tinge, were only left a fracture drawn, and a sliver of moonlight snaked onto the wooden panels of the floor, causing an azure tint to capture the cuts and grooves of the furniture within. Upon a rusty hook behind the doorway that led to a closet on the right, hung a recognizable gaudy red coat with the alchemical symbol of the Flamel on its back in the form of a cross and a serpent, Ed's father having passed it down to his son.

The light blonde patted Ed on the back and he understood the indication to scramble under the covers of the quilted comforter. The boy tucked himself in and fluffed the soft and cream pillow behind him, cushioning his head as he lay all the way down. But try as he might, he somehow couldn't get himself comfortable enough. There was something missing, something essential, but he had to figure out what it was first.

And he still sensed Winry there, hovering just above him, a warm candlelight in hand.

"Hey, Aunt Winry," Edward mumbled sleepily, "Could you sing me that lullaby again?"

Needless to say, she was taken aback. He had never asked for her to sing the lullaby before. It had always been when he was a smaller child, most definitely not in the recent year. Plus, she smiled internally; he had the stubbornness of _her _Edward Elric and usually refused to be treated like a helpless child. But in exceptional moments like these, both Eds were known to be incredibly considerate, kind, and in their own odd way, gentle.

Moreover, unbeknownst to both occupants in the room, Alphonse and Mei Elric were spying on them from a slender crack, the entry having opened just a tiny bit. They were curious parents, and both of them were aware that if they let Winry take over their son for a night, he would do things that he usually never does at home or with them. Whether it was because she was simply such a compassionate woman, or the fact that she was someone different, they would never know, but the reality was that Winry's personality was probably one of the most similar to Ed's besides his father. With that thought, Al knew that Ed really was like his brother in more ways than one.

"If you want me to."

"That would be nice if you could." Then there was a rustling of sheets.

Winry sighed, a bittersweet feeling prickling her insides as she proceeded to sing the lullaby that her mother and Trisha Elric had both shared to hum with their children. "Hush, hush! Don't tell the bluebird to flutter away and he will come to you…"

The sweet melody enveloped them, and Al memorized that moment so long ago when he was younger and his brother had asked their mother to sing for them before bed in such an out-of-character manner that he still speculated whether he had been dreaming already when it happened. It was something he would never dare to disregard, as it was one of those precious moments of his upbringing that brought him out of hopelessness as an unfilled suit of armor in his premature teenage-adulthood.

Their adventures, the brothers' times together, the sacrifices they made for one another, their lives, and deaths…It was all there, somewhere in the back of his mind and hidden from everyone else. It was memories that made a life complete, and he still had them all, somewhere up there.

Soon after, Winry had finished her song, and Ed was falling into a contented slumber. It brought back memories, ones that seemed too far away to even grab a hold onto. The light breathing of sleep filled the area and Ed's gradual rise and fall of his chest caused the blankets to go with the flow. It was the type of sleep that no one had the heart to disturb, and it was this type that Al missed the most.

The three adults noticed each other, with Winry swiveling around to see her friends attempting to hide behind a door. She shook her head, standing up and said, "You know, it's not very nice to eavesdrop." When she saw the wide eyes of Al and his stunned expression, she was very tempted to laugh. "Don't give me that."

"If I remember correctly," Al replied when he finally recomposed his stature, "You were an eavesdropper whenever brother and I thought we were alone. You thought we hid everything from you so you tried to listen in every time you got the chance."

"You're right about that." She looked down, glimpsed over at the sleeping child, and switched her line of vision back to the two parents standing near her, namely the Xingese woman. "You're so lucky," the automail mechanic smiled, "You two have a family to look after. Sometimes I wish that things were different and I know Granny would scold me for saying this but…" Her voice trailed on into an undertone and it was evident that the girl was not so sure if she should continue with her sentiment.

"Go on," Mei spoke gently.

"…I'm grateful for you two, I really am, it's just that I have tried. I want to move forward. I want to use both of my legs, but I can't seem to use them."

Both Elrics knew exactly what their friend was speaking of. Fourteen years is a long time, but that did not mean that it was easy to move on. Winry Rockbell was a strong person and Al and Mei did agree on that. She was their best friend in all of Resembool, not even a rival for those friends outside in Central, Lior, Eastern City, or even Xing. But some things were just too hard to brush over, and it was one of those things that they all knew was what made Winry who she was today.

"If—If _he _was still alive I would tell him how I felt." The azure eyed girl chuckled, "You see? Granny would get me for saying that. It's stupid. I know. I just regret not _saying _anything sometimes to the point that when I did see people like John or Paul, I just couldn't go any further." Her fingers quivered ever so slightly and she folded one of her hands into a fist at her side. "I can't even follow my own advice. I'm so pathetic, Mei."

The nighttime thickened, a twisting comprehensive of swirling matter, just like, Al mused, the science that alchemy was studied to be. There was almost no sound but the soft breathing of the occupants. In a sense, the world was still for a while.

And then—"Don't be silly Ms. Winry."

It was the cheerful reply of a woman formerly known as Mei Chang. Her voice rang out like a fire had rekindled somewhere in the dark and refused to spark back out of life. "It's ok to keep onto your past. Just because you don't want to love anyone else doesn't mean that you haven't moved on," she beamed an affectionate one and persisted, "It just means that you have something to learn by heart."

Winry opened her mouth slightly in an attempt to retort, but she was abruptly cut off while a hand was simply held up in front of her face.

"Think about it, and maybe someday Alphonse here will tell you what that bluebird in your lullaby really stands for."

"And what's that supposed to—"

Mei only turned away and placed an arm on her companion's shoulder, urging Al to move along. "Think about it, Ms. Winry," she said, "Let's go Alphonse."

ooo

They had left her standing there, all alone while Ed had fallen to snoozing. Both of them never heard the Rockbell take a slow leave to her own bedroom and shut the door, a sniffle unwillingly escaping as she urgently tried to get in before she revealed too much. Her ponytail swished on her back and grazed her bare forearms when they could just scarcely hear a click that was the indicator that the door had been locked shut. The Elrics were sound asleep by the time the full moon had risen to its highest peak in the sky and midnight had arrived. The hours of darkness were at their paramount minutes.

A familiar outline returned in the form of a tender shadow, with golden hair and golden eyes that faced the building before him. He was glowing as if there was a soft celestial form that surrounded his skin from the tips of his fingers to the ends of his black and leather boots. A red coat with the stamp of a cross and a snake, the Flamel, took up its place as part of abnormal attire, and white gloved palms with black pants.

And who was he but a memory?

The fact was that this figure had taken to observance in the moonlight when the extraterrestrial orb was at its highest. He was well aware that it was a magnificently odd episode and that no one, not even an unlucky stray cat, would be able to see him. He was only a meager recollection after all. But he had not seemed to mind.

A breeze came and leaves picked up from the ground but they spun in strange patterns, an invisible something willing them to move in directions that they could never achieve on the clear nature and sheer force of the wind. And as they kept at it for a while, for a second one could barely take in the scenery of someone standing before the infamous Elric home in Resembool, and just like that, the gold vanished in a speckle of light, but he was somehow still there, watching over the brother and friends he could never come back to.

"Right, Al," Edward Elric stated confidently and oblivious to the debris that only made the decision to twirl ever faster around his feet, "You idiot. Don't go all soft on me."

But it was he who understood everything, its true meaning, and its true feeling of gratification. Life would always be hard and would never cease to present challenges. Though most people became attentive to this truth, not many knew the meaning behind it all. To live was to die, and to die was to live. That was the truth, although not literally of course.

Leaving the world of the living was terrifying at first, an unknown and depressing state of mind to behold. It was the most difficult point in life to accept, but everyone had to accept it one day. He refused to sugarcoat circumstances and say that he was never scared of going away forever, for he thought that everyone had that fear, including the toughest of men. There was one thing that he would never regret though, and that was being able to have the chance to save his little brother's life.

He knew he was proud of everyone and how far they had come. He watched them with keen eyes that held a hint of longing. The Fullmetal Alchemist wished he could say the things he could not to his childhood friend, or tell Al how prideful he was of his success. But, that was the only complex reality about taking a deeper slumber than those who still had existence in them…

To leave the people he cared about behind.

"Say 'hi' to everyone for me. Oh and by the way, the old hag thinks that you should lay off the milk a little. It's giving the cow a workout."

But Ed had known for a long time now that going away was not such a bad thing. He had learned it years ago. It was kind of like a really long lullaby, one that put somebody to sleep more hurriedly than an average person would reading a high-level alchemy book, however he begged to digress on that deliberation. It was the lullaby that lulled a sluggish soul to doze off for a while, a waiting tune, a calming aura that brought those who could not let go of their lives into a barrage of gleaming memories.

His brother was so fortunate, really. The older brother knew that Alphonse would never forget that song as he hadn't forgotten either, and it was that song that offered up lost reminiscences from the past and made them whole again. Edward had realized that it had become his reassuring lullaby as well, along with its imagination and its bluebirds. Bluebirds, he recalled in an ancient Xingese text, were the symbol of happiness.

How right that was.

"_Hush, hush!  
The bluebird is in the sky  
And sings this lullaby."_


	4. The Beginning of Dreaming

**The Beginning of Dreaming**

"_Hush, hush!  
Don't tell the bluebird to flutter away  
and he will come to you._

_A rush, a rush!  
And the winds will flow west  
to carry him high._

_Crush, crush!  
The white of a snowy day  
Falls beneath your feet._

_So lush, so lush!  
Trees quiver in the spring  
their leaves will fly to you._

_Shush, shush!  
Here goes the heavenly dreams  
that sigh with joy to you._

_Without a fight!  
Touch your eyes closed  
And remember again._

_Hush, hush!  
The bluebird is in the sky  
And sings this lullaby."_

"Alright boys," Trisha whispered quietly as she watched them fall into a deep slumber, "Have pleasant dreams."

The lights of the orange fire in the nearby lamps flickered off and she gave the slumbering children a wide berth as she crossed over to the door across the room. There was a flash of white and blinding illumination and the young mother was suddenly gone. She was an undertone of the past, a good one at that, and Alphonse awoke to realize that he had fallen asleep on his research notes again. He looked up and smiled; sure to see his mother standing there alongside with his brother, but his silvery-gold eyes only met a glistening frame with glass that covered an old photo.

It was that dream again, the one that recounted his past and sometimes added in the recent present. But then again, it was never really a dream at all, was it?

"Alphonse?" It was Mei calling his name and soon he stood from his study and sauntered over to the dining room where breakfast kindly awaited his appetite. The setting was peaceful, as directly opposed to the previous years of harsh reckonings and utter abhorrence. "And by the way, I think there's something wrong with the cow. She's not giving up her milk today."

He remembered his strange dream. What was that the figure had said again? Oh. "Denny is too stressed for milk. She might be tired of giving it up." At that statement, the Xingese woman gave him a questioning façade and shook her head, merely continuing with her quest to squeeze Resembool lemons for a cold pitcher of ice with lemonade. She wrung her hands when juice droplets touched her skin, a tingling and sour flavor that made her feel an insignificant burn.

"Well," she said in reply, "Ed will be pleased."

"Pleased about what?" And a dreary-eyed Edward who was rubbing his face came down the stairs to the sounds of sizzling bacon on the stove and the crusty aroma of scrambled eggs with goat cheese and toast. Sliced green apples were set on the table and tinkering plates of balmy porcelain. The day had only just begun and yet, things were so perfect already.

Alphonse _was _lucky, and it was at that explicit moment point in time that he knew it for sure. His previous life was always so filled to the brim with sadness and despair, a kind of unrelenting shadow that followed him everywhere. But back then was the nighttime, and now it was finally the morning.

His past had once been a nightmare with bittersweet instances and misgivings, but his dream had reminded him just exactly why he was so thankful. Sure, there would always be times when things wouldn't go the way he wanted or that other conditions would seem so trivial or plain, but that would not stop him from ever remembering, nor would it stop him from getting up on his own two legs in order to oversee what he had accomplished.

A life for a life would never be Equivalent Exchange, but that principal was still there. If you worked hard for anything you dreamed of and strived to be your best, the equivalency would only come out to be the same in how diligent you were. And that was a fact.

"Ed!" Mei scolded her only son, "Just because there isn't any milk at sunup doesn't mean that you are allowed to pick a fight with the cow!"

Al chuckled to himself when he watched his family chase each other around the front yard, a spatula sending sparks flying from head to toe in the clutches of a frustrated mother, an amused young blonde, and a confused animal running about. And in the midst of it all and with the situation's bare hilarity, there would be nothing better.

"Thank you brother…"

Laughing burst the dew on the grass by the seams, spreading water globules everywhere until mother and son landed in a spread-eagled heap upon the wet ground. The sun kissed hills of his childhood residence, and of course, the place where he knew that there would always be a home to return to, was even more beautiful than ever. And as Winry Rockbell came sprinting down the porch steps to give the two a piece of her mind for disrupting her late grandmother's farm animal, he could only think about how the dream began.

"…for saving my life."

ooo

"_A lesson without pain is meaningless. For you cannot gain something without sacrificing something else in return. But once you have overcome it and made it your own, you will gain an irreplaceable full-metal heart."  
_-108: Journey's End

**AN: Thank you for reading this story and short epilogue. I hope you can follow my next project, "Dog of the Military". I disclaim all unoriginal characters and context, for Fullmetal Alchemist rightfully belongs to the author, Hiromu Arakawa, and Studio Bones, Square Enix, and Funimation for the animation. **


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